


For the Want of a Goat

by Roga



Category: Discworld - Pratchett
Genre: Crack, Gen, Jewish Holidays, Pesach | Passover
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-04-12
Updated: 2009-04-12
Packaged: 2017-10-05 12:41:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/41817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Roga/pseuds/Roga
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dizabin abah bitrei zuzei, or whatever. Vimes investigates a murder.</p>
            </blockquote>





	For the Want of a Goat

**COMMANDER VIMES.**

"Returning to the scene of the crime. It's a little bit cliché, don't you think?"

**I AM A CLICHÉ.**

"Hmm, yes, you have a point."

**IT IS RIGHT THERE ON THE TIP OF THE SCYTHE.**

"Haha. And a sense of humor, I see. You're all sorts of unexpected."

**IF I WERE EXPECTED, I WOULD NOT HAVE NEARLY AS MUCH WORK AS I DO.**

"I imagine Mr. Hambit didn't expect you at all."

**NO. **

"Why'd you do it?"

**YOU ARE QUITE CERTAIN IT WAS ME?**

"That's not really a question, is it? But to answer, yes. It made no sense at first— if there's one thing you know about Death, it's that Death doesn't _kill_. But all the clues lead to you. The lack of any scents at all. The scythe marks. The broken hourglass remains. The fact that you didn't deny it the moment I brought it up. For someone who takes lives on an hourly basis, you lack the subtlety of an experienced murderer."

**HMM. **

"Well, _do_ you deny it?"

**I DON'T SUPPOSE I CAN. YOUR EVIDENCE IS VERY CONVINCING. **

"Why, then?"

**DOES IT MATTER? YOU CANNOT ARREST ME.**

"Well, it'll help satisfy my own curiosity, which will make me less grouchy during dinnertime and therefore less inclined to fight with Sybil over that new feather in my cap or over when it becomes polite to withdraw from the social-function-of-the-week, thus reducing the chance of leaving my son with various Psychological complexes."

**AN ADEQUATE CAUSE, I SUPPOSE. VERY WELL. WHAT DO YOU WISH TO KNOW?**

"Why did you kill Mr. Hambit?"

**HE SLAUGHTERED MY OX. **

"He was a butcher. It's what they do."

**NEVERTHELESS. I HAD GROWN ATTACHED TO PINKY. I WAS NOT PLEASED TO SEE HIM SLAUGHTERED.**

"Pinky?"

**MY OX.**

"_Where_ exactly did you get an ox?"

**HE WAS A NEW ACQUISITION, FROM LANCRE. BLACK AS COAL, WITH A KIND TEMPERAMENT. HE USED TO CUDDLE WITH MY HORSE. **

"Pinky?"

**BINKY. HE IS QUITE HEARTBROKEN.**

"Doesn't sound like a good reason to go and kill someone."

**HE WAS A VERY USEFUL OX. HE WOULD DRINK FROM THE LAKE IN MY REALM TO MAKE SURE IT WAS UNPOISONED. **

"Could you die, if it were?"

**NO. IT WAS THE PRINCIPLE OF THE THING.**

"...I see. _Why_ would someone try to poison your lake?"

**YOU MAY BE SURPRISED TO DISCOVER THAT MANY PEOPLE DO NOT, IN FACT, LIKE ME AT ALL.**

"All right, stands to reason. But _who_, in particular?"

**YOU ASK MANY QUESTIONS YOU ALREADY KNOW THE ANSWER TO, COMMANDER VIMES.**

"Sorry, force of habit. All right, so Mr. Hambit tried to poison your lake. Sounds like he had a personal vendetta against you. Who was it – his wife? His child?"

**HIS DOG. **

"His... dog? He wanted to take revenge on Death because his _dog_ died?"

**HIS DOG IS NOT DEAD.**

"Oh? Then what did you do, maim it? Run it over? Feed it to the sharks?"

**I, ER. I BEAT IT WITH A STICK.**

"You beat it. with a stick."

**YES. **

"You're _Death_, and you beat the butcher's dog with a stick."

**YES. **

"Okay. Fine. And Mr. Hambit didn't react well."

**HE SET FIRE TO MY STICK. **

"When you say stick, it's not by chance a euphemism, is it?"

**I'M AFRAID NOT. IT WAS MY FAVORITE STICK, TOO. **

"...Right."

**ALL BURNED UP. I HAD TO QUENCH IT WITH WATER. IT WAS COMPLETELY RUINED. **

"Water from the lake?"

**YES. **

"Which Mr. Hambit tried to poison."

**YES. YOU NEEDN'T RUB YOUR EYES _QUITE_ SO HARD, COMMANDER. YOU WILL ONLY INJURE YOURSELF.**

"I'm sorry, it's just that the kind of stupidity you're describing is so dreadfully _human_, it's very unsettling coming from you."

**AH. ER. WELL, MY JUDGEMENT MAY HAVE BEEN A TAD RASH.**

"You think so."

**ALBERT CERTAINLY DOES, FROM THE WAY HE'S BEEN BURNING MY YOGHURT. I HAD NO IDEA YOGHURT COULD ACTUALLY BE BURNT.**

"You're deflecting."

**IS THAT WHAT I'M DOING? MY. I REALLY _AM_ A CLICHÉ.**

"Most murderers are. All right, so why'd you do it?"

**I HAVE ALREADY TOLD YOU. IT WAS BECAUSE OF PINKY.**

"I mean, why'd you beat his dog?"

**OH. ER.**

"Well, don't start looking embarrassed _now_. I already know you named your ox Pinky."

**FINE. IT WAS BECAUSE HE BIT MY CAT.**

"...The dog bit your cat?"

**I AM FOND OF MY CATS, ALL RIGHT?**

"Er..."

**THEY ARE VERY DEAR TO ME.**

"...Right."

**ALL OF THEM. FROM THEIR WHISKERS TO THEIR TAILS.**

"And his dog bit your cat."

**LITTLE DINKY, BLESS HIS THREE-FINGERED-PAW. I AM QUITE CERTAIN IT WAS DELIBERATE.**

"You think Mr. Hambit intentionally sicced his dog on Dinky the cat?"

**IT'S POSSIBLE.**

"Now, why would you think that?"

**ER. DINKY MAY HAVE EATEN MR. HAMBIT'S BABY GOAT.**

"I'm sorry? Did you just say that your cat may have _eaten Mr. Hambit's goat?_"

**YES.**

"And you mean 'may have' in the sense of 'did'?"

**ER. YES.**

"His _goat_."

**DINKY HAS A VERY HEALTHY APPETITE.**

"For _goat_."

**ON OCCASION, YES.**

"You couldn't have just bought him a goat?"

**I ATTEMPTED TO, BUT MR. HAMBIT DID NOT ACCEPT MY TWO ZUZES.**

"You tried to pay him with Ancient Klatchian currency? I'm shocked he refused."

**THIS IS SARCASM.**

"Oh, gods. Yes, yes, it was sarcasm. Look, is there any more to your tale?"

**I DO NOT THINK SO.**

"So, just to get it straight: you killed Mr. Hambit, who slaughtered your ox, who drank from the lake that quenched the fire that burnt the stick that beat the dog that bit your cat that ate Mr. Hambit's goat that cost two zuzes."

**THAT COST TEN ANKH MORPORK DOLLARS, ACTUALLY. BUT YOUR CHAIN OF EVENTS IS CORRECT. I BELIEVE THIS IS CALLED A MOTIVE?**

"I think this is called the bedtime story I'm going to be telling my son from now on."

**AND YOUR MORAL WILL BE: DO NOT ATTEMPT TO PURCHASE GOODS WITH ZUZES?**

"I'm pretty sure the moral will be, never ask anthropomorphic personifications questions you don't need to know the answers to. I really did prefer believing you people were less like... well. _Us_."

**ER. SORRY TO DISAPPOINT?**

"All right, well. Good night then. I don't suppose I can actually ask you not to kill any more people."

**YOU CANNOT. BUT I BELIEVE I WILL REFRAIN FROM MURDER AS IT IS. I DO NOT LIKE MY YOGHURT CRISP.**

"Good night, Mr, er. Death."

**GOOD NIGHT, COMMANDER VIMES. COME NOW, PI—**

SQUEAK!

**I HAVE TOLD YOU ALREADY, IT IS AN HONOR TO BE NAMED AFTER SOMEONE SO BELOVED.**

SQUEAK SQUEAK.

**YOU WILL GET USED TO IT. COME NOW, PINKY, AND LET US DO WHAT WE DO EVERY NIGHT.**

SQUEAK?

**YES. WITH SOME HORSERADISH ON TOP.**

**Author's Note:**

> Based on [that song from the hagaddah](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Chad_Gadya), of course. Written on the night of the seder, 2009. Um, happy Easter?


End file.
